


making something out of nothing

by mildlydiscouraging



Series: the weight we carry [2]
Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Families of Choice, Gen, High School, M/M, Non-binary character, Origin Story, Poetry, Rent References, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, drama club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7755046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlydiscouraging/pseuds/mildlydiscouraging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ah," Keating says. He nods knowingly and adjusts his hat. "The Dead Poets Society. A place for those dedicated to sucking all the marrow out of life, those committed to the enchantment of poetry and drawn together by their passion. We made the long trek to the cave of Henley Park and wrought magic in the night, everything from Ginsberg to Whitman to our own works."</p><p>"You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around, getting high and reading poetry?" Charlie asks.</p><p>Keating shrugs. "It <i>was</i> the seventies."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. to the stage

"You know, this whole thing wouldn't have happened if we still had the kids from last year."

Charlie is lying in the middle of the stage, trying to get pencils stuck in the ceiling above but ultimately just hitting themself in the face. Despite the fact that there was no real reason to anymore, Neil still unlocked the auditorium every afternoon, and everyone still hung out there for the hour and a half they'd reserved for the now cancelled musical.

"It's not my fault they were all seniors," Neil says as he walks the length of the wall above the orchestra pit for the fourth time that day, arms out to keep his balance. The musical being shut down had hit him especially hard, and understandably so. If his father wasn't such an asshole, he'd be in the middle of dress rehearsals right now. He still had their opening night in his calendar on his phone, mocking him every time he checked when his stupid math team met. It was infuriating. He had really been looking forward to his big number.

Todd looks up from his seat in the audience, surrounded by his chemistry notes. "I don't know who you're talking about," he says, not for the first time.

Leaping down from his paces, Neil kneels on the ground in front of Todd. "The most amazing people in the whole world, Todd," he says with way too much conviction. "They were the true Bohemians, and we are lost without their direction."

There's the sound of a door opening backstage and Stephen emerges, carrying snacks from the vending machine down the hall.

"When Neil joined drama last year," he explains as he passes out the crinkling bags, "the whole club was made up of seniors, and now that they've graduated, he's the only one left." He leans down to take the rest of Charlie's pencils, ignoring their indignant cries, and continues, "He's still dealing with the separation anxiety and his latent abandonment issues."

"Hey!" Neil says as Stephen throws a bag of chips at his face. "I resent that."

"More like resemble."

"Anyway," Stephen sits next to Todd, interrupting before Neil attacks Charlie, "I highly doubt they would've been able to do anything about this. I mean, _Rent_ , Neil? Really?"

Neil pulls himself into one of the other seats and props his feet up on the short wall. "It's not my fault the administration doesn't appreciate good art."

"Right, that's why they shut us down. Definitely not the open references to sex, drugs, and AIDS."

"That's 'The Man' for you," Charlie says from the floor. "Stomping out individuality. La vie Boheme, gentlemen, is a dying lifestyle. Creativity is out, conformity is in, and we are the last of the great romantics. It is our job to carry on the tradition of the tradition-less."

Stephen rolls his eyes and Todd laughs a little as he turns back to his homework, but Neil suddenly gets that look in his eyes, like he's just had the best idea of his life. Judging by the fact that the last best idea is what landed them where they are, Stephen is understandably concerned when he recognizes it.

"Hang on," Neil says, reaching for his backpack. "Charlie's got a point."

"They do?" Stephen asks. He's already come up with three backup plans and two escape routes in the time it's taken Neil to pull out his English notebook.

Nodding, Neil flips through the pages until he reaches his notes from earlier that week. "The other day, Keating said something, I can't remember what, about this group of poets, something about the next generation of bohemians."

"He says things about poets every day," Charlie points out. "That's kind of what the class is about."

Neil is still looking when Gerard and Knox get back from Knox's car, still looking as Chris and Ginny arrive in their volleyball uniforms. While Charlie and Chris fight over the speakers, Neil borrows Todd's notes to see if he got it.

"You have seriously terrible handwriting," Neil says as he hands back the notebook. Todd shrugs bashfully and Neil can't stop staring for a minute. When he shakes himself out of it, he says, "I can't believe I can't remember it. It was some kind of society or something."

"The Dead Poets Society?"

Neil turns around so fast he feels like he should be afraid of whiplash. Gerard is sitting innocently on the stage, legs hanging off the edge and eating a sandwich. "What did you say?" Neil asks.

"The Dead Poets Society," Gerard repeats once he swallows his mouthful of food. "Keating said it was a local legend kind of thing, a bunch of high school kids in the seventies reading poetry in their basements or something. I remember cuz he said 'women swooned' and then he winked at me." He pulls a face. "It was weird."

Neil leaps up as soon as he hears the context and remembers. He reaches over to grab Gerard's face and kiss him on the forehead before running towards the door.

"What the hell was that for?" Gerard yells after him at the same time as Charlie asks, "Where you going?"

"To find our new tradition!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the musical failed in part because none of them can really sing and also because [mr. perry read the summary](http://wetbread.co.vu/post/147723269273/) on the wikipedia page and made the school shut it down. it's a whole thing. i'll probably write it eventually. also, the trans characters are todd (ftm) and charlie (nb) bc i do what i want. there's more, but basically knox is the only one who's straight.
> 
> anyway, yeah! the work & chapter titles and most of the references are from ["la vie boheme a"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E5yK-3iUGQE) in said musical. let me know what you think! i haven't written multi-chapter stuff in a while & i'm really excited abt this tbh. i'll be updating every other day hopefully, barring any unforeseen delays
> 
> (also ao3 says steven but the movie literally says stephen towards the end w/ the contract thing so fuck u guys)


	2. to days of inspiration

By the time they catch up to him, Neil has already run up to Keating's room, seen the closed door, and turned back down the stairs. He almost literally runs into the rest of the group on the stairs and there's a brief fumbling before Neil leads them out to the parking lot. Those who had regrettably forgotten to grab their coats (which is to say, all of them) were freezing.

Neil walks with purpose across the half-frozen dead leaves that carpet the empty parking spaces. A stiff breeze blows through and Ginny swears, shivering in her shorts. "Neil, what the fuck are we doing out here?"

Keating is the only person left in the parking lot, standing among the few cars. He's just putting his bag in the passenger side of his car as Neil spots him.

"Mr. Keating!" Neil calls as he runs ahead of the group. "O Captain, My Captain!"

At that he teacher finally turns around, looking up with a smile at the group. "Scholars! What can I do for you?"

"Earlier today, you were talking about poetry movements," Neil starts, but Charlie interrupts him before he can ramble.

"What's the Dead Poets Society?" They say, cutting straight to the point as they shuffle from foot to foot in the October cold.

"Ah," Keating says. He nods knowingly and readjusts his hat. "The Dead Poets Society. A place for those dedicated to sucking all the marrow out of life, those who were committed to the enchantment of poetry and drawn together by their passion. We made the long trek to Henley Park and wrought magic in that cave, reading everything from Ginsberg to Whitman to our own works."

"You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around, getting high and reading poetry?" Charlie asks.

Keating shrugs. "It _was_ the seventies." A few of them laugh as he continues, "But to answer your question, no, Mr. Dalton, it was more than that. We didn't just read poetry, we let it drip from our tongues like honey. Gods were created in that cave."

He looks into the distance beyond their heads a little wistfully before coming back to himself. "Anyway, not a bad way to spend an evening, huh? Thank you for this trip down amnesia lane. At least you didn't bring up my yearbook pictures."

Keating gets into his car as they wave goodbye, Charlie leading the shivering group back into the school and towards the auditorium.

"Alright, I gotta admit," Charlie says once they're all back inside, "Mr. K is a bit of a badass."

"We're doing it." Neil is holding his notebook again, staring at it contemplatively.

"Doing what?" Knox asks.

"Reviving the Dead Poets Society." He throws his notebook in his backpack. "Ginny, you live by Henley Park, right?" When she nods, he continues, "Your parents are out of town all the time, when are they gone next?"

"Uh, this Friday?" She says. "My dad's in New York for business and I think Mom is taking Chet to go look at colleges. Why?"

Neil pulls on his coat and throws his backpack over one shoulder, saying, "I'm gonna go to the library and find some poetry books, we'll all stay over at Ginny's tomorrow and head out to the cave."

The rest of the group stands there as Neil moves like a whirlwind around the stage, returning backpacks and coats and homework to their owners as they stand there watching.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Knox asks eventually. Neil finally stops and stares at them from the middle of the stage.

"Come _on_ , you guys," he says. "This is what we've been waiting for. After the musical, I thought that was it, that was the end. But the Dead Poets Society, I mean, talk about serendipity. This is it, the new tradition."

"La vie boheme, right?" Charlie asks, crossing their arms determinedly. "I'm in."

"Me too," Ginny says as she steps forward and takes the coat Neil hands her. "I'll figure out where the cave is if you guys bring snacks."

The others soon follow suit—Chris then Knox then Stephen then Gerard then Todd—all with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"What about you, Cameron?" Neil calls out. The rest of the group turns around to see Richard Cameron, local kiss-ass, standing at the top of the stairs. "Are you ready to live life to the fullest?"

"I was just leaving." Cameron points a thumb back over his shoulder. "Hager said to tell you your time in here's almost up and to make sure you lock up when you leave. I have no idea what any of you are talking about."

"We're restarting a secret society," Neil says, pointedly ignoring Charlie's frantic "cut it out" motions. "You want in?"

"Sure." Cameron shrugs. "As long as you're not committing any felonies, why not?"

Charlie groans and throws their hands up in the air as Neil smiles. "Good. I'll get you the details later. Todd, are you doing anything right now? Wanna come to the library with me?"

"Okay," Todd says and he grabs his stuff.

Neil throws Charlie his spare set of keys to the theater and grabs Todd's hand before leading him up the stairs. "Charlie, lock up for me, will you? We've got work to do."

Todd follows him, a little flustered, and the rest of the group slowly disperses, something exciting lingering in the air after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my freshman science teacher used to call everyone scholars and it was annoying as FUCK tbh. this takes place in massachusetts btw. "why?" you ask? because i can. also cuz there's nothing in vermont and i needed a relatively nearby metropolitan area for other fic purposes that will b expounded upon in later works. that sounds super mysterious, there's just gonna be a fic where they go to boston on a weekend
> 
> here comes the line i used for the summary, literally the funniest thing i've ever written. i wrote it weeks ago and i'm still laughing abt it tbh


	3. to the need to express to communicate

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Todd asks, hands in his pockets as Neil stalks up and down the stacks. The walk over was freezing, but inside the library Todd is slowly thawing again.

"Poetry!" Neil says, pulling a book from the shelf only to replace it immediately. "The greats! Whitman, Wordsworth, Keats, Thoreau—all those dead dudes. What was that one Keating mentioned? Sandburg?"

"Ginsberg," Todd corrects as Neil crouches to look at more books. "Although Carl Sandburg is also a person and they were both Beat poets, so they probably knew each other and wrote the same kind of stuff."

Pausing in his search, Neil looks up at Todd curiously. "You seem to know a lot about poets, Todd. You really are a man of mystery."

Todd crouches next to him instead of answering and pulls out one of the books. "Here," he says, handing it to Neil. "Robert Frost. You'd like him."

Neil opens the book to a random page and reads, "'She had no saying dark enough for the dark pine that kept forever trying the window latch of the room where they slept.' Wow." He looks over at Todd. "Thank you."

"It's not like I wrote it or anything," Todd says as he stands up and brushes the invisible dust off his pants.

Neil stands up too, grabbing the other books he'd picked out and putting the Frost anthology on top of the stack. As they walk to the check out, he says, "You'd be good at it though. Poetry."

When Todd shakes his head violently, Neil laughs a little. "You would be!" He insists as he passes another book under the scanner. "Like, I know you don't talk much, but when you do, you pick your words so carefully and I can just tell. You'd be amazing."

"What about you, huh?" Todd deflects, putting the books in his backpack and pulling his coat tighter around himself as Neil pushes open the door. "Mr. Shakespeare over here, I bet you could just spit out something eighty times better than anything I ever could."

Neil scoffs and skips ahead a few steps to walk backwards in front of Todd. "Trust me, I would most definitely not. I'm better off reading someone else's words than trying to write my own. I'm no poet, but I know one when I see one, and you definitely are."

"We'll just agree to disagree then," Todd says simply, and the conversation moves on, both still thinking about what the other said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> todd is secretly a huge poetry stan. he's really a boy of many mysteries tho. the poem quoted is "[the oft-repeated dream](http://www.bartleby.com/271/102.html)" by robert frost. don't worry, there will b more ginsberg in later chapters, i gotchu guys


	4. to playing hooky

The bell rings just as Neil slides in the room, looking like he just ran through a wind tunnel with papers sticking out of the books in his arms and his hair sticking up in the back.

"The hell happened to you?" Charlie asks as Neil dumps his stuff on his desk. "Was Spanish really that exciting?"

"I had to go down to my locker, across the building," Neil explains as he tries to flatten out his hair. "With all these books I didn't have enough room for all my normal stuff so I had to go get my textbook." He takes a deep breath and pauses for a moment, letting his head catch up to his body.

"Well, you made it," Charlie says as Keating moves to the front of the class and claps his hands once.

The class takes off at a sprint and the rest of the hour is a blur. Today's lesson has something to do with rhythm and leads to everyone doing jumping jacks around the room while trying to say tongue twisters, Keating grinning from his semi-usual spot standing on top of his desk. His encouragements to "Feel both the burn and the beat!" are the only thing other than the sound of alliterative consonants interrupting the sound of huffing breath. By the time the final bell rings, everyone is exhausted but grinning.

As the rest of the class files out as the soon-to-be Society members gather around Charlie and Neil's desks.

"You guys ready for tonight?" Knox asks as he sits on Charlie's desk. Neil is busy pulling back on his sweater and packing up his bag. There are sounds of agreement as he piles the books into his bag, and he gets up to head for the bus.

"Neil, wait," Ginny says, holding out an old book. "You forgot one." Neil takes the book and she turns back to Chris, helping her put away her notebooks.

"This isn't mine," he says, but she doesn't hear him. The book is unfamiliar and heavy, too big to have fit in his backpack with the others. It doesn't have a library sticker on the spine and is falling apart a little, "The Oxford Book of English Verse" printed on the front.

"What is it?" Todd leans over his shoulder to read the title and Neil is temporarily incapable of thinking about anything other than how nice Todd looks in the light from the window behind him.

"I don't know," Neil says once he can tear his eyes away. He opens the cover and sees something written on the title page. When he looks up at Keating's desk, he finds the teacher already watching him with a small smile. When he meets Neil's eyes, Keating winks before looking back down at his grading.

Neil smiles and closes the book, carefully handing it to Todd. "You're gonna have to carry this one," he says, turning to face the group.

"Alright guys, let's ride."

Charlie winces and says, "Please never utter those words ever again," but they all follow him out of the room anyway, Keating giving Todd a final wave as he trails in the back of the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so i changed what book it is cuz "five centuries" would b waaaaay out of date for 2010 (which is when this takes place... kinda... kinda not too but w/e, time is a human construct) and the oxford book was redone in 1972 which is around when the original dps would've started in this verse, and it's got dylan thomas and ted hughes and co., but there'll also be more modern poetry and also, yknow, women and stuff, so yeah! there's a reason i changed it, that's all


	5. to more than one dimension

Thankfully Ginny lives in a neighborhood where most everyone sends their kids to private school, so her bus is always empty and even running up at the last minute, they manage to all get seats with each other.

The ride is mostly quiet, everyone thrumming with energy, although Charlie nearly vibrates out of their seat a couple times. Gerard and Knox are comparing supplies for the trip, which quickly devolves into an argument over whether Chips Ahoy are good or not (Knox pro-Chips and Gerard questioning why he ever became friends with someone who thinks something "drier than cardboard and half as flavorful" is actually good) and it almost escalates into shouting until Stephen points out that Gerard brought Nutter Butters anyway, so does it really matter? All in all, typical conversation.

In the front row, Todd is quietly reading the book Neil found on his desk. "So this was just... there?" He asks.

Neil nods and points to the inside cover. "It's got to be Keating," he explains. "Look at the initials. He must've left it on my desk before class and I didn't notice it under all my other stuff."

Todd hums as he rereads the dedication in the front. "Isn't this kind of depressing?"

"All the best poetry is," Neil replies. He takes the book back and points at the final line. "Besides," he says, "it's not _sad_ , it's hopeful."

"All the best poetry is," Todd repeats as the bus grinds to a halt. Ginny leans over the back of their seats and tells them this is their stop, so Neil replaces the book in his bag and follows the rest of the teenagers.

As soon as he steps foot off the bus, Neil is glad he remembered to wear a scarf that morning as the wind throws it back in his face, momentarily shielding it from the cold.

"Why couldn't Keating have mentioned this stupid club in September?" Knox says as he tries to bury his face in the neck of his coat. Halfway through October the leaves had started to fall, and it had only been getting colder ever since.

When they get to the right number of nearly identical houses, Ginny shrugs her bag higher up on her shoulder and bounds up the steps to her front door. "It's only gonna get colder at night," she says, "but don't worry, I've got some blankets we can bring."

Backpacks are thrown onto couches as the friends pry boots and sneakers away from frozen toes.

As he pulls his hat off and tries to minimize his hat hair damage, Stephen asks the question someone probably should've thought of before. "Wait a second... Does anyone actually know where this cave Keating was talking about is?"

Sitting on the arm of one of the easy chairs, Chris says, "Yeah, Ginny and I used to play out there as kids. It's been a while, but we can probably find it."

"Anyone else worried about stumbling around the woods in the freezing dark?" Some heads turn when Cameron speaks up, probably because they'd forgotten he was there.

"Nah." Neil shakes his head. He's kneeling in front of the coffee table and taking out all his textbooks and school stuff. He sets aside two of the books and a flashlight. "Ginny, you got those blankets?"

She pulls some faded tartan blankets out of the hall closet and passes them to Neil, who quickly stuffs them into his emptied bag and puts the Frost anthology and Keating's book in on top of them. "It'll be dark soon anyway," she says. "Anyone wanna watch a movie?"

They get sucked into the comedy and before they know it, two hours have past and the sun outside has started to set. Ginny turns the TV off and stands up, saying, "I think it's time."

Nine coats and pairs of shoes return to their owners, six hats, two scarves, and four pairs of gloves. Ginny passes Cameron and Knox flashlights as Stephen and Neil turn on their own. Charlie turns on the weak one on their phone and frowns as Knox quickly outshines it with his real flashlight.

"Cut it out, man," Charlie says, shining the light in Knox's eyes to no real effect. Stephen pulls on their arm and trades their phone for his flashlight. "Thanks, Meeks."

"Just don't wander," Stephen replies. "So Ginny, where exactly are we going?"

As Ginny begins directing them down the quiet suburban roads, the group grows more and more excited. Several times Chris goes skipping ahead of the rest, coat flying out behind her and catching in the yellow streetlights. Laughter grows and fades as giggles get out of hand and echo down the empty streets.

Soon enough they reach the park and then the edge of the woods. The flashlights become their only source of light besides the thin shine of the moon. They're able to follow the path up to a certain point where Chris dictates they turn left instead of right, their footsteps crunching through the dead leaves and bushes.

"So what did you decide to read tonight?" Neil asks Todd as he hands him the flashlight to hold onto while Neil searches for his gloves in the bag on his shoulder. Neil isn't very good at multitasking and when he stops to pull on the gloves they fall behind the group a little.

"Uh," Todd says, "I wasn't going to read anything."

"What do you mean? Everyone has to read, that's the whole point!"

"I don't want to do it," Todd says firmly, more forceful than anything Neil's ever heard him say before.

"It's just us, you know," Neil says cautiously, tiptoeing lightly around what is obviously a sensitive subject. "Friends. You can trust us. You- you can trust _me_."

Todd hands back the flashlight and shoves his hands as deep in his pockets as he can. "You know I'm no good at that stuff. I just don't want to do it."

Neither of them speaks for a moment, Neil looking at Todd that way he sometimes does, like he's just noticed the right pattern in a cipher he's trying to decode. When Neil does speak, it's quieter than before. "You really have a problem with this kind of stuff, don't you?"

Neil waits for an answer but gets none, so he continues, "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I know it's part of the rules, but who cares. We're in charge now and if you don't want to read, you don't have to."

Todd still doesn't say anything, but the silence is more comfortable now, and when the flashlight beam reflects off the back of Chris's jacket ahead of them, Neil can see the quiet smile on his face.

"We should be almost there," Ginny says when they reach the edge of the creek in the park. They walk along it until they reach a tree spanning the water, where they turn back into the woods.

"Is that it?" Neil asks when his flashlight catches something solid in the trees in front of them.

"Yeah," Ginny answers. "We should be able to get around through the hole to your left. Be careful, though. It was big enough to get through when we were kids, I don't know about now."

The cave is more like a rocky outcrop, boulders disposed of by some long gone glacier and neatly stacked up with openings just large enough to easily get inside. She squeezes through and calls from within, "It might be a little hard to get through, but this is it."

That is, easily for some. Gerard knocks into one of the ledges and, when he jumps back and clutches his shin, hits the back of his head on the lip of the cave. "Yeah, especially those of us vertically challenged."

"Shut up, Gerard," Stephen and Chris say simultaneously. The smallest two of the group, they effortlessly climb into the cave and find themselves seats on top of one of the rocks, Chris brushing off dry leaves as Stephen lays down one of Ginny's blankets. The others soon follow, Knox making sure to duck enough that he avoids also hitting his head. Blankets are distributed and as they settle in, Ginny calls for a census of snacks.

"Cough 'em up," she says, gesturing at the blanket in the middle of the cave.

"An apple?" Charlie says. "Really, Knox? You're like the house that hands out raisins on Halloween, jeez."

"My mom was there when I left for school this morning," he says, raising his hands defensively. "She wouldn't let me leave without it, something about an article she read in a health magazine."

Charlie lets him off with an eye roll and waves their flashlight in Neil's general direction. "Shall we let the meeting commence?"

Neil clears his throat dramatically and stands up in the middle of the cave. Book in one hand, flashlight in the other, he takes a moment to glance around at the rest of the assembled and run the light over them.

"I hereby reconvene the Welton Chapter of the Dead Poets Society. These meetings will be conducted by myself and by the rest of the new initiates now present. Todd Anderson, because he prefers not to read, will keep minutes of the meetings."

Todd gives a little awkward wave, Neil's tone of voice thankfully making it sound more jokingly ceremonial than uncomfortably out of place.

"I will now read the traditional opening message from society member Stanley Kunitz," Neil continues. He cracks open the book and holds the pages down with one hand, using the other to point the light at it as he begins to read.

"'In a rising wind the manic dust of my friends, those who fell along the way, bitterly stings my face. Yet I turn, I turn, exulting somewhat, with my will intact to go wherever I need to go, and every stone on the road precious to me.'"

The same feeling from yesterday in the auditorium hangs in the air, somber but exhilarating all the same. No one wants to break it, but then a bird outside twitters and Cameron jumps in his seat. Everyone else breaks into laughter and the mood vanishes, replaced by easy friendship.

Neil sits back down in his spot between Todd and Charlie. "Alright, who's up first?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so the chips ahoy thing is a running argument my old history teacher and i have and i still can't believe he actually likes chips ahoy, who tf does that, they're disgusting, nutter butters ftw
> 
> p much all the stuff neil says in the cave is direct from the movie, and i totally wasn't able to write it out word for word from memory, nope. the new opening quote is from "[the layers](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/layers)" by stanley kunitz, which is a bit of a fudge bc it was published in '78, six years after i put the original dps, but i just love it a lot. also stanley kunitz was a really cool dude, rip.


	6. to going mad

"So she starts hearing this scratching sound and this gravelly voice almost like her boyfriend's saying, 'Let me in,' but she stays inside and eventually she falls asleep. When she wakes up the next morning, she sees her boyfriend never came back, the driver's seat empty, and she unlocks the door to check if he's out there, puts one foot outside, and-"

"Man door hand hook car door," Charlie finishes for him. "Come on Cameron, everyone knows that story." The rest of the friends start agreeing, Chris reaching out one hand like a hook as Stephen mock faints away from her.

"'Man door' _what_?" Cameron cries. "What the hell are you talking about, I made that up myself!" He barely dodges the crumpled up napkin Charlie throws at him and a brief scuffle breaks out before Ginny stands up, almost crushing Charlie's hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down, you heathens," she says. "I've got a poem to read."

"Something original?" Neil asks, subtly pushing Charlie's arms down from where they had started to reach for Cameron's neck.

"Original, yes. Mine, no." She pulls a book out of her backpack and opens it to a dogeared page. The paperback is new but well-read with corners folded down and a few sticky notes stuck between the pages.

"'Dying,'" she reads, "'is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call.'"

The cave is stopped and quiet, captivated by the words and the way Ginny's voice surrounds them all. Neil feels locked into this moment in a way that feels like his heart is in his shoes.

"'It's easy enough to do it in a cell. It's easy enough to do it and stay put. It's the theatrical comeback in broad day to the same place, the same face, the same brute. Amused shout: 'A miracle!' That knocks me out.'"

As the words hang in the air, Ginny breathes out and closes the book. "Sylvia Plath," she says, waving the paperback around a little. "Who's next?"

When no one says anything, unwilling to try to follow that act, Neil sits up against the wall and says, "Alright, I'll go. This is Allen Ginsberg."

Todd smiles but raises an eyebrow, knowing full well what most of Ginsberg's poetry is like and wondering whether Neil's choice would be more depressing or explicit.

"'All these streets'," Neil begins, "'leading so crosswise, honking, lengthily, by avenues stalked by high buildings or crusted into slums thru such halting traffic, screaming cars and engines, so painfully to this countryside, this graveyard, this stillness on deathbed or mountain, once seen  never regained or desired in the mind to come where all Manhattan that I’ve seen must disappear.'"

Knox lets out a low whistle when he finishes. "Anyone have anything less depressing?"

Pouring the last crumbs of his bag of chips into his mouth, Stephen brushes off his hands on his knees and waves to get everyone's attention.

"'Draw a crazy picture, write a nutty poem, sing a mumble-gumble song, whistle through your comb. Do a loony-goony dance across the kitchen floor. Put something silly in the world that wasn't there before.' ...Or something like that."

The cave bursts into surprised laughter and applause as Stephen stands up to bow.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Meeks," Charlie says, clapping slowly with feigned dignity. "Truly the voice of a generation."

"Hey, don't talk shit about Shel Silverstein, alright? My parents used to read me him when I was a kid. I have so much of his stuff memorized still, it's not even funny."

Of course, everyone immediately urges him to recite more, and he tells them, to the best of his abilities, one about a crocodile that eats a dentist and another about a king whose mouth is glued shut by a peanut butter sandwich. It's a good thing the cave is so isolated, because their laughter rings out into the woods with every clever rhyme and nonsense story.

By the time Stephen has exhausted his Silverstein catalog, Charlie is lying on the ground, chest heaving, and Chris's eyeliner is smearing from her tears of laughter. "Someone else go, please," he says eventually. "I feel like my voice is gonna give out at any moment."

Neil's feet have fallen asleep and he kicks them out from underneath him, still laughing. "Knox, what about you?"

"I don't know if I can beat that," Knox says, shaking his head. "Pitts? Another ghost story?"

"I have something," Todd says. His voice is quiet but not unsure, and Neil looks up at him sharply when he says it.

"You sure?" Neil says it under his breath so no one else can hear.

"Ooh, a Todd Anderson original?" Charlie asks.

Todd, in the middle of nodding in answer to Neil, starts violently shaking his head. "No, no, definitely not," he says. "I wish I could write something this good."

"Well go ahead then," Charlie says as they gesture to the empty middle of the cave where the snacks used to be.

Todd makes no move at all to stand center stage and shifts to pull a piece of notebook paper out of his back pocket. The creases of the page are deep, the handwriting deliberate, and it's obviously been through the wash at least once.

"This is 'Birches', by Robert Frost," he introduces.

"'When I see birches bend to left and right across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them.'"

His voice is steady and with everyone in the cave paying close attention, it's easier to hear him. No one wants to interrupt this moment, each knowing to some extent how big of a moment this is for Todd.

"'But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay as ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them loaded with ice a sunny winter morning after a rain. They click upon themselves as the breeze rises, and turn many-colored as the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.'"

The words are simple but weighty in the silence. Where Charlie would usually be unconsciously tapping a foot or Gerard might whisper something to Stephen, the cave is quiet aside from the sound of wind rustling through the trees outside.

"'But I was going to say when Truth broke in with all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm, I should prefer to have some boy bend them as he went out and in to fetch the cows.'"

Neil is especially spellbound. It's as if the world has melted away, everything outside of Todd and the soft crinkle of the paper and the scant inches between his hand and Todd's knee ceasing to matter in any way.

"'He always kept his poise to the top branches, climbing carefully. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, kicking his way down through the air to the ground.'"

The further he reads, the more—not confident, per say, Todd's voice gets, but more present. It's as if to start talking he needed to detach from his body, let some part of himself float away so he could read without remembering there are people listening, and now that nothing has gone wrong, he can come back to the present.

"'So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. I'd like to get away from earth awhile and then come back to it and begin over.'"

He doesn't even have to look at the paper anymore, eyes drifting up over the walls of the cave and up to the small opening in the ceiling. The moon is just out of sight but close enough that it blots out the nearby stars, leaving only a slight glow and a clear night sky.

"'I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, and climb black branches up a snow-white trunk toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, but dipped its top and set me down again.'"

Before the final lines, Todd takes a deep breath and looks back down at his copied lines. "'That would be good both going and coming back'," he recites. "'One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.'"

The quiet that follows is unlike what followed Ginny's poem from earlier. Whereas that was a freezing, conversation stopped in its tracks by her poem, this was a soft silence. Time moves on, albeit reluctantly, and the lack of words is not because no one can speak, but because no one has anything more to say.

Ginny is the one to break the silence. "I think that's a good enough place to end the meeting," she says. "Thanks for bringing down the house, Todd."

Freed from the pressure of being the first to speak, the others burst into a flood of praise, everyone but Neil suddenly exuberant and full of energy. There is chattering and joking as they pick up their poems and wrappers and step out of the cave. Charlie throws one of the blankets over their shoulders and runs out of the cave whooping, and the rest follow them in their own excitement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man door hook hand car door
> 
> (quote link dump: [man door](), "[lady lazarus](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/49000)" by sylvia plath, "[my sad self](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/49307)" by allen ginsberg, "put something in" and "crocodile's toothache" and "peanut butter sandwich" by shel silverstein, and an abbreviated version of "[birches](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44260)" by robert frost)
> 
> (i love birches a lot okay)
> 
> (neil's face during ginny's poem is that face he makes [all the time](http://ashwinder.tumblr.com/post/145545583881/) and it makes me super fucking sad)
> 
> (fuck it, i'm updating every day now, i'm too impatient to wait to post all of this)
> 
> (MAN DOOR HAND HOOK CAR DOOR)


	7. to loving tension

After Gerard carefully crawls out of the cave last, the only ones left are Todd and Neil. Todd had picked up on Neil's silence immediately and stays in his seat, fiddling with the edge of the blanket they're on. It hasn't been too long, as they can still hear the others joking around outside, but it's been long enough that Todd is starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Neil?" Todd finally asks when it becomes apparent Neil isn't planning on talking any time soon.

"That was amazing."

The words don't fully register in Todd's head, and he has to turn his entire body sideways to force himself to look at Neil. "What?"

Neil finally looks up and meets Todd's eyes. His face is both conflicted and understanding, as though he just realized something but has no idea what to do with the information yet. "The Frost poem, _your_ reading, it was amazing. You were amazing. I knew you would be, but this was just... Wow."

Todd can't hold control it anymore and he feels the blush spread full force across his cheeks. He ducks his head and says, "Well, thanks. I mean, I could only do it because of you."

When Neil tilts his head questioningly, Todd explains, "What you said earlier, about being surrounded by people I trust. I realized it was true, and I had the poem with me so I figured I might as well."

"I'm glad you trust everyone," Neil says, eyes still a little wide.

"I trust _you_ ," Todd corrects. Although Neil isn't necessarily wrong, it feels important that to clarify that Neil is included in Todd's reasons why he felt safe enough to speak. After all, he is a big part of it. Todd just hopes Neil doesn't ask why.

And he doesn't—ask, that is. No, instead he darts forward quickly and presses his lips to Todd's cheek. It's only for a moment, a brief amount of time when most of the air between them is displaced and the remainder filled with more warmth than before, but Todd feels every inch of those three brief seconds. The October night has left Neil's lips dry, and if it weren't for the way Neil ducks his head when he pulls back, Todd isn't sure he would have believed what has just happened.

"You-?"

Before Todd can finish his question, Stephen pops his head back in the entrance of the cave and says, "Just so you know, everyone's ready to leave, and I've watched _The Blair Witch Project_ too many times to feel comfortable leaving you guys behind to find your way home."

Somehow the moment isn't broken, not entirely, and they both laugh a little awkwardly as Stephen pats the side of the cave entrance once and says, "Okay, good talk."

As Stephen leaves, Neil stands up, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ceiling, and offers Todd a hand. Todd takes it, of course, and tries not to feel like he's done something wrong when Neil lets go right away to pick up the blanket and flashlight.

Bag slung over his shoulder, Neil walks over to the entrance, but stops when he realizes Todd isn't next to him. He holds out one hand behind him.

"You coming?" His casual tone is betrayed by the way he goes completely still as he says it.

Todd nods and takes his hand, allowing Neil to help pull him up and out of the cave. This time, neither of them lets go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, out loud, as i was writing this: shit that's gay
> 
> i don't know if they're necessarily _loving_ the tension, but boy howdy this chapter is a doozy, and i couldn't pick a better lyric


	8. to riding your bikes mid-day

That night at Ginny's house, Neil can't seem to fall asleep. The Dead Poets (and he feels satisfied when he refers to them that way in his head, something about creation and belonging ringing from the words) are scattered around the living room—Chris and Ginny sharing one air mattress on the floor, Stephen and Cameron and Gerard all lying sideways on another, Knox on the couch on the opposite side of the room, Charlie curled up in the armchair.

Neil himself is on the other couch, trying to sleep but unable to. It might have to do with the fact that Todd is asleep on the floor next to him in a sleeping bag, or maybe the way that when Todd had been handed said sleeping bag by Ginny, he had dragged it over next to Neil's spot with a tentative smile. The couch Neil is on is actually just a really big ottoman, more decoration than furniture, as most of the stuff at the Danbury's is, so when he lies down, his head is only a few inches above Todd's on the floor, and the tiredly excited chattering of the rest of the room gives them a chance to talk.

Todd speaks first, saying, "Keating was right, about the whole magic of the cave thing."

Folding his arms under his head, Neil hums and nods. "Think we created any gods tonight?"

They both laugh, but a look around the room quiets Todd. While they hadn't necessarily been strangers before, it was obvious the group was that was closer. "This was a really good idea. Thank you for thinking of it."

"Thank you for coming," Neil replies. He turns onto his side to look at Todd and one of his hands dangles off the sofa.

Todd goes silent for a minute, contemplating, until the bravery he felt earlier in the cave returns and he reaches out. Their hands catch together awkwardly, the angle and difference in height making it hard to properly hold hands, but that doesn't stop them from trying. The grin on Neil's face is blinding but they're both silent, off in their own little world outside of their friends.

The rest of the room slowly quiets, conversations tapering off into sleep as people slide from punch drunk tiredness to just plain exhaustion. Ginny gets up to turn off the light after the first few fall asleep and the rest are quick to follow.

Todd's blinking is getting slower and slower, his eyes now more closed than open, and he feels Neil lift their intertwined hands and gently kiss the back of his. It's a nice feeling to end the night on and Todd finds it easy to drift off soon after.

Once he's sure Todd is asleep, Neil lets go off his hand, knowing their wrists and fingers would start to cramp in the uncomfortable position and they would regret it come morning. Neil thinks to himself, as he brushes some of Todd's hair away from his forehead, that he really doesn't want them to have any reason to regret it.

When Neil pulls back, he feels someone's eyes on him and looks up to see Charlie still awake in the armchair. Charlie doesn't say anything, just shakes their head smiling before giving Neil a thumbs up. Neil returns the gesture, a little embarrassed, and both of them soon fall asleep.

As people begin to wake up the next morning/afternoon, a movement to make pancakes begins to form, spearheaded by Charlie, who really wants pancakes, and Chris, who is the only one who actually knows how to make them. Ginny directs them to the ingredients from where she sits bleary-eyed on a stool at the kitchen island, and soon the smell of pancakes and syrup wakes and draws in the rest of the friends.

Plates of Chris's perfect circles and Charlie's more lumpy creations are passed around ("Of course even your fucking pancakes are perfect, stop showing me up, Chris.") and quickly consumed, but eventually parents and life start to interrupt in the form of texts and homework and family outings and sports—everything they'd managed to forget last night.

Neil is the first to leave, summoned home by some practice SAT test his father set up, his latest attempt to get him ahead at school. As their fearless leader, he's passed around the group for hugs and high fives.

Ginny grabs him first, hugging him tightly and whispering ardent thanks in his ear. Knox is next and slaps him on the back, all false aloofness and macho bravado, but when he smiles, Neil can feel his "Thank you" just the same.

After a few more hugs, Todd appears. The speed with which Neil throws his arms around his neck is impressive, and they don't let go of each other until Charlie wonders aloud if they're going to have to get a crowbar to pry them apart.

"I'll text you later," Neil promises, and Todd nods, but they're still standing too close together and their foreheads bump into each other. Todd grimaces as he pulls back, hand over the spot where they hit, but Neil is still smiling when he backs up to get his stuff. "Later, I promise."

Just Neil is turning the doorknob, Charlie calls out, "Wait, I'll walk with you." They wave their phone in explanation as they pick up their backpack and follow Neil. "My mom says I gotta come home and we're basically neighbors anyway."

Neil nods and holds open the door for them as Charlie backs out saying, "See you nerds on Monday."

As soon as the door closes behind them, Charlie smacks Neil upside the head.

"Ow!" Neil says. "What was that for?"

"You never told me!" Charlie says, heading down the front steps. There's a light breeze, but the sun is warm in the sky and Charlie doesn't bother to put on their coat. "I mean, I knew you liked him, we all did, but you never told me!"

Neil rubs the back of his head and follows Charlie down the street. "If it helps, I never told anyone."

Charlie scoffs and turns to him. "Right, that totally helps. Why the hell not? Every other dude you've had a crush on, you've told me pretty much the second you've figured it out."

"I dunno," Neil says. "It's just... Todd's different."

They have to wait for a minivan full of little kids in soccer gear to back out of a driveway and Charlie hums as they continue. "He's definitely quieter than the rest of them."

Neil laughs, then nods and says, "I'm pretty sure he's quieter than literally anyone I've ever known."

They walk along in silence for a little while and enjoy the good weather, knowing it'll probably be the last warm day until spring. It's a few blocks later when Charlie finally asks, "So what went down in the cave?"

"Shut up." Neil rolls his eyes at Charlie's eyebrow waggling and shoves their shoulder. "It was nothing like that."

"At least tell me you kissed him." When Neil doesn't respond, Charlie throws their hands in the air. "Come on, Neil!"

"You know Todd," Neil explains. "I didn't wanna scare him off."

Something about Neil's answer is off and as he shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, Charlie asks, "You sure it wasn't cuz you were scared?"

Neil sighs. "Yeah, that too. Not to sound like a cliche, but I don't know, it's different with him."

"Well, as long as you don't go full _Looking for Alaska_ on me and drag me out on some last ditch effort romantic road trip, I'm behind you a hundred percent," Charlie says as they sling an arm around Neil's shoulders. "Also you guys are fucking adorable and it makes me sick."

That makes Neil laugh and he throws his arm around Charlie too. They walk like that the last few blocks to Neil's house. When they get to the bottom of the front walkway, Charlie stops and asks, "You gonna be alright?"

Neil, halfway to the door, pauses. "Yeah," he lies, "I'll be fine."

Charlie doesn't buy it for one second. "You really sure?"

"Yes, Charlie, I'll be fine," Neil says more convincingly, still loitering on the walkway. After all, the more time he spends out here, the less he has to be inside, and Charlie is definitely preferable company. "I've just got to do this stupid practice test and then he's off on a business trip and I'm basically by myself all weekend. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Charlie hesitantly accepts Neil's excuse and turns to walk the rest of the way to their house. "Not if my homework doesn't eat me alive by then."

"Alright." Neil goes to open the door but remembers something and calls after Charlie, "Oh, by the way, it was _Paper Towns_ that you were thinking of earlier. Wrong John Green book. You're slipping, dude."

"Goddammit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the entire line is the context of why it's the title for this chapter, and really only applies to the second half, but it's super long so i was like nah and also the first half was too cute to omit but too short to justify another chapter.
> 
> i will b in dc the next few days! it won't affect my posting schedule, but i'm very excited & wanted to share lol. oh and also, if ur into the whole tumblr thing, there's a masterpost of this whole universe on there if u would like to reblog it, u can find it [here](http://wetbread.co.vu/post/149729379693/).
> 
> charlie had a john green phase, but really, didn't we all?


	9. to hating dear old mom and dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for homophobia frm neil's dad

After Neil finishes the practice test from Hell and gets his phone back from his father, he turns it on to find dozens of missed texts. His phone doesn't stop buzzing long enough for him to read any of them for three minutes, but when it does, he sees there's at least one from every one of the Dead Poets. Even Cameron is asking when they can meet again, suggesting the very next day.

Neil is in the middle of making plans with Ginny to go to the library later (they both agree there's something special about holding the actual book in your hands) when his father comes back down the stairs, rolling suitcase in one hand and phone in the other. He shouts something up the stairs that Neil can't quite hear from the kitchen and honestly, doesn't want to hear.

When the sounds of his father's footsteps start getting closer and closer to the kitchen, Neil picks up the closest book and pretends to be reading it. Then, when he realizes it's the Allen Ginsberg anthology, he starts  _ actually  _ reading and gets so sucked in he doesn't notice when his father starts reading over his shoulder.

"What is that?" Mr. Perry asks, taking the book out of Neil's hands to turn it around and read the front cover. "'Allen Ginsberg'? Who the hell is that?"

"He's a poet from the 50's and 60's," Neil says as he tries to take the book back, but Mr. Perry turns away and starts reading aloud from a random page with an expressionless tone of voice.

"'The world is holy, the soul is holy, the skin is holy, the nose is holy, the-' Jesus Christ, Neil, what is this- This  _ smut _ ?"

"It's not 'smut', dad, come on," Neil says as he jumps up and finally takes the book back. "You didn't even read the context, it's about how-"

Turning back to the laptop bag he had been putting things in before the conversation started, Mr. Perry says, "It's about some fag and his gross obsession with other men's bodies, is what it is."

"It's not!" Neil insists, holding up the book. "I mean, yes, Allen Ginsberg was gay, but look: 'the madman is holy as you my soul-'"

"I don't understand you, Neil," Mr. Perry interrupts. He zips shut the case and slings it over his shoulder. "One minute you're trying to make this work and the next-"

"The next minute I'm what? Still gay?" Mr. Perry scoffs and walks out of the kitchen, but Neil throws his book on the table and follows him. "Is that was this is about? Because I am, dad, and I'm tired of having to pretend I'm not around you."

"I just wish you would give up on this whole thing already," he says as he pulls his shoes on. "Really, Neil, you need to move on."

Neil freezes as Mr. Perry sweeps out the door, suitcase trailing behind him. Even as the door swings shut behind him, Neil can hear the clacking sound the wheels make on the front steps, and then the car starting and pulling out of the driveway.

When his mom comes down the stairs, Neil is still standing in the foyer. "Neil, sweetheart?" She asks as she walks through to the kitchen. "Did your father leave for his trip already?"

She doesn't wait for an answer and Neil hears pots and pans clattering in the sink. "Ooh, whatcha reading, honey?"

"Nothing," he says. He sweeps his books and papers into his open backpack before taking it upstairs to his room. "Nothing at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty blunt chapter title but honestly, were u not expecting it?
> 
> quotes in this chapter are from allen ginsberg's "[footnote to howl](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/54163)". pls read the rest of the line. then imagine 1989 kurtwood smith reading it outloud, then want to wash ur ears out w/ soap, like i did while writing this
> 
> i'm in dc rn so i might be a little late replying to comments but still leave them pls! i love hearing frm u guys


	10. to being an us for once

Later that day, Neil and Ginny are sitting on the lawn in front of the library with a stack of books between them. The weather was still nice and Ginny wanted to eat the fruit salad she had bought, so they had decided to take their research outside.

Ginny is trying valiantly to spear a piece of cantaloupe with her weak plastic spork while Neil pages through another book of 19th century English poetry.

"I don't understand why you're bothering with that stuff," she says around a mouthful of strawberry. "It's just a bunch of dead dudes in love with the ocean."

Neil makes a face. "Says the girl who's obsessed with Dylan Thomas."

"Dylan is different."

"'Dylan'? You're on a first name basis now?"

Ginny throws one of her grapes at Neil, who hides behind his book and laughs.

"I'm just saying: also a dead dude in love with the ocean," he says. "And besides, it's a dead poets society, it's kind of a danger of the job."

Ginny finally gets the piece of cantaloupe she's been stabbing at and Neil cheers as she triumphantly eats it. "You know," she says when she finishes, "that's not even what the Dead Poets Society means."

"What?"

She puts the lid back on her food and picks up one of the books she'd chosen earlier. "Yeah, I asked Keating about it yesterday before class. He said something like becoming a member meant 'a lifetime of apprenticeship' and that everyone living is just an initiate."

"That's... really morbid, wow."

Ginny nods and turns the pages of her book. "What do you think about this one?" She asks, tilting the book so Neil can read it.

"No, hang on," Neil says, "go back. What does that even mean?"

Sighing, Ginny puts down her book and looks off into the distance. "I don't really know. I guess it's like, you're never really finished? It changes your whole life, influences everything you do after you pledge yourself or whatever, and in the end the person you've become is a Dead Poet."

"That's even more morbid," Neil says again, but he doesn't seem to believe it as much this time. As overly dramatic and macabre as it sounds, it appeals to his inner Romantic and he can't help but immediately be a little infatuated with the idea.

"Yup." They share a look before picking up their respective books again. "What's your opinion on limericks?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY, SO DID U GUYS KNOW THAT'S WHAT THE DEAD POETS SOCIETY ACTUALLY MEANS, BC I SURE DIDN'T, AND IT MADE NEIL'S DEATH EIGHT THOUSAND TIMES SADDER. i love ginny. i also love dylan thomas. and sylvia plath. thanks for ur time.


	11. to emotion, devotion

Neil ends up returning some of his books from Thursday afternoon and checking out as many more as the library would let him—all poetry, from Percy Shelley to Sylvia Plath.

"We can't be friends if you haven't read _Ariel_ ," Ginny had said when she added the book to the top of his pile, "and I'm in the middle of rereading my copy." Neil had taken it gladly, intrigued by the small excerpt she had read at the meeting. They had parted ways outside the library as Neil got on his bike to head home and Ginny leaned against the stop sign at the corner and waited for her bus.

When he rolls to a stop at the top of the driveway, Neil remembers his father isn't home and his shoulders relax minutely. He sticks his head in the front door and finds only silence inside as he presses the button to open the garage.

While he waits for the door to slowly climb up to the point where he can duck under, Neil takes a look around the neighborhood. The streets are quiet; no cars driving past, no children outside in the weather slowly inching back to cold. He can almost see last night again, as they ran down dark streets not too dissimilar to these ones, laughter bouncing off the sleeping houses as if the rest of the world had paused just for this moment. If he shuts his eyes, Neil can still hear the shoes hitting cold pavement.

When he opens his eyes again, though, the garage is wide open, and Neil reluctantly rolls his bike in and goes inside the empty house. As the garage falls shut, he tries not to read too much into the fact that even through a closed door, the sound resonates deep in his chest.

There is still no one in the house when he dumps his backpack on the kitchen table, no one to tell him off when he drinks orange juice straight from the carton. It's a dumb form of rebellion, but he doesn't really care that much anymore. He gets out the milk and pours himself a bowl of cereal, figuring that if nobody's home, he might as well have dinner.

Neil is closing the fridge when his phone buzzes harshly against the table. He goes to pick it up and almost drops it again when he sees a text from Todd, the one person who hadn't texted him earlier.

> todd (5:30pm)  
>  ginny just called me from the bus and ranted about dylan thomas's enginuity, do u have any idea why?
> 
> neil (5:31pm)  
>  lol yeah we were just at the library and i may have implied he was just the same as the romantics
> 
> todd (5:33pm)  
>  wow, harsh
> 
> todd (5:33pm)  
>  how are these conversations that we have?
> 
> neil (5:34pm)  
>  idek anymore, but its awesome
> 
> neil (5:36pm)  
>  is there another conversation u had in mind?
> 
> todd (5:33pm)  
>  i dunno, maybe
> 
> neil (5:36pm)  
>  ok, so how long have u been in love w me?

Almost as soon as the text is sent, Neil's phone starts buzzing with an incoming call from Todd. He answers it laughing, and when Todd hears it, he groans.

"Neil."

"I'm sorry," Neil says, laughing a little more at the way Todd says his name, then a little less at the way he really likes it. "It was just too easy."

"If you're going to be mean, I'm hanging up."

"Okay, one, you won't, because you're the one who called me, and two, I'll stop, I promise."

Neil goes to the living room and sits on the couch with his cereal as Todd is saying, "I didn't come here to be ridiculed."

"You didn't come anywhere," Neil points out. "You're still at your house, you didn't have to text me."

"Yeah, well..."

"I'm glad you did."

Neil doesn't have to be in the same room to tell Todd is blushing furiously as he says again in the same tone of voice as earlier, "Neil."

"Todd," Neil says back. He intends for it to be teasing, but it comes out more fond than anything. He takes a bite of his cereal, which is quickly growing soggy under his neglect. "So, how was your day?" He asks in an almost singsong way.

"Good," Todd says. "I did pretty much all my homework."

Neil nods, forgetting that Todd can't see it. The two are quiet for a moment before Neil says, "So... We should probably talk about yesterday."

He can hear shuffling on the other side and imagines Todd somehow sitting up straighter and slouching more in that way he does when he's uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess," Todd says over the phone.

"I really like you," Neil says as quickly as his tongues can form the words. He wants to make sure they're on the same page, first and foremost, and also he's been waiting an excruciatingly long time to say it. "Like, I really _really_ like you. _Like_ like you."

"...So you really really like like me?"

Neil rolls his eyes. He can practically see Todd smirking as he says it, and the image lights the tiny part in Neil's chest that seems to only come alive when Todd is involved. "Okay, when you say it like that it sounds ridiculous."

"Isn't it?"

"Not at all." Neil sounds even more serious compared to the joking turn the conversation has taken.

"Oh," Todd says. A beat of torturous silence. Then: "I really like you too."

Even as grin threatens to overtake his entire face and split open his chapped lips, Neil can't help but ask, "Really really like like?"

"Shut up," Todd says, but his voice says otherwise, and the conversation quickly devolves into Neil listing all the things he likes about him and Todd getting incredibly flustered by them.

Almost a half an hour later and Neil still hasn't exhausted his resource of cute things Todd does (and he probably never will, seeing as the list consists of pretty much everything Todd has ever done ever). Todd had started reciprocating after the first few minutes and the discussion had gotten increasingly sappy after that as they started trading embarrassing moments of infatuation.

"So _how_ long have you been in love with me?" Neil asks again after a while.

"Neil, come on, you kn- Oh, what?" Todd leans away from the phone halfway through his sentence, obviously talking to someone else in the room. Neil can't really hear the other half of the conversation, only Todd. "Yeah, uh, sure, one minute... Um, it's Neil... Yeah, okay, I'll be right there." There's the sound of a door closing and then Todd saying, "Hi, I'm back."

"Parents?"

"Yeah," Todd sighs. "My mom, she said it was time for dinner so I gotta go."

"Oh. Okay."

There is silence over the line for a moment, neither of them willing to end the call. Neil is the one to break it when he says, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah? Maybe we can hang out or something."

"Yeah, yeah. I would really like that." Todd is quieter than he was before they were interrupted. Whenever something like this happens, Neil always feels a little sad, like all of the progress Todd has made in talking to people gets wiped away a little. Compared to September, Todd is a conversational wizard, but whenever he comes back from talking to his family a little more reserved, Neil can't help but notice.

"Todd?" A hum. "I really really like like you."

He laughs, genuinely and twice as loud as he was just speaking. "Please don't make that a thing."

"I'm definitely making it a thing."

"Please don't."

"I already have."

Neil is about to hang up when he hears it. "I really like you too."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

Neil waits for Todd to end the call and immediately turns on the TV before the quiet comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a modern au, of course theres a texting scene!!!
> 
> (ao3 hates my emojis FUCK U GUYS) usually todd is in neil's phone as "todd happy cat emoji" and neil is "neil glowing star full moon yellow heart" in todd's except neil has v little self control and added the double hearts like. as soon as he woke up that morning.
> 
> todd doesn't really get the whole emojis in the contacts name but when neil gave him his number he put it into todd's phone himself and added all those and then made todd pick one for himself in a conversation that i assume went like this:
> 
> neil: so todd what emoji are you?  
> todd: what  
> neil: i think you're like the flower one, or maybe the purple heart, ooh but also the monkey covering its eyes, or maybe the blushing face emoji?  
> todd: .....i like cats?  
> neil: DONE
> 
> (also hello yes i am home & dc was lovely & i miss it already)


	12. to no absolutes

Monday arrives to the tune of the friends gathering around Neil's locker before the school day starts.

Todd is there first, his usual spot outside the band room occupied by kids waiting to talk to the choir teacher. He leans back against the locker bay and stares at his phone in an attempt to look both casual and unapproachable in his busyness.

Charlie and Stephen are next, Charlie quick to tease Todd about what happened when he was alone in the cave with Neil before Stephen distracts them with one thing or another. The rest soon arrive and end up almost completely blocking off the flow of the hallway, too large of a group to fit against the wall like they normally would.

Neil, the last to arrive, is immediately stormed by the group. Their de facto leader, everyone crowds around him, all practically demanding they have another meeting as soon as possible.

"I mean, we could go down there after school today," Knox reasons, leaning over Ginny's shoulder to be face to face with Neil. Neil, who has been trying to talk to Todd, gives up for a moment to address their concerns, but everyone starts talking over him.

"It won't be dark out, though," Stephen points out, "and isn't that kind of the point?"

"The point is all of us together in the cave," Gerard says. "If we only go at night, we'll probably never meet again."

"So this afternoon then? Is that too soon? I already picked out another poem," Knox continues.

"Guys?" Neil tries to get everyone's attention, waving not-so-subtly between himself and Todd. A few of them seem to get the hint and Ginny, Chris, and Stephen peel away from the group, Ginny winking at them as she leaves. The others, of course, don't really get it, and it isn't until Neil says, "Will the rest of you get out of here so I can ask Todd if he wants to be my boyfriend?"

Charlie wolf-whistles and Knox's eyes get really wide, but they leave pretty quickly after that. Neil hardly notices them leaving, though, unable to look away from Todd, who's knee-jerk reaction is to study the grit between the tiles on the ceiling. He knows how Todd works, though, and isn't worried by his silence as he leans back against the lockers with a smile.

"So..." Neil drawls, staring out the window across the hallway before turning to face Todd, still smiling. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Todd covers his face with both hands, but the strap of his messenger bag starts sliding off his shoulder and he has to drop his hands to hitch it back up. "What do you think?"

"Well, I think I want to be _your_ boyfriend," Neil says as he shrugs with feigned nonchalance. "You?"

Todd screws up his face like he's thinking really hard before he finally answers, "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

Todd laughs. "Yeah, Neil, no duh."

"Okay, just making sure." Both of them are smiling too hard to really hide it and eventually they stop trying as they turn towards each other fully. Todd can't really hold eye contact, but Neil doesn't mind; he likes looking at Todd regardless of whether he's looking back or not.

"Everyone seems pretty excited about the Dead Poets Society," Todd says. Neil hums in answer, still looking at Todd like he's trying to memorize the way his face moves when he speaks. "You think this is gonna be our next 'thing'?"

Neil contemplates it a little while, remembering the way Ginny had looked when they'd made eye contact during her poem and how their laughter had rang through the barren trees.

"I think it already is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there it is! the end! thank u all for ur comments and just reading in general, it's been a good time!
> 
> i hope u all enjoyed this au bc there's always gonna b more of it. like rate and subscribe, yall. see u guys later!!!! kay thanks bye

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! i hope u enjoy this au at least half as much as i do, bc hoo boy, do i love this au a lot
> 
> tumblr @[moonfullofstars](http://moonfullofstars.tumblr.com)


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